Odyssey: Of Two Heartbeats
by opera777
Summary: A time comes in a woman's life when she realises that she can live her life or have it lived for her. But what happens when the past walks into your future? Warning: some coarse language and situations if I get 5 review by tomorrow I will post the next chapter before midnight.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Okay where to begin. . .Well first off I don't own anything, I am purely doing this for my own amusement and no money will be made from this work of fiction _obviously..._

Otherwise I would be living on 80 acres with the most beautiful barn, fields of emerald, my own private lake, cellars... Oh yeah and the house would be nice too! But I digress (naturally) This little plot bunny is probably the oldest in my herd (in fact, to be honest, I am surprised it's still around). The funny thing was I could just never get the logistics of this one quite right and so I kept putting it back where I couldn't think of it for another day. Until one day I got it right and you will see what I mean. Huge shout out to inkblottales for putting up with my ramblings and incoherencies you rock!

...and here we go!

Odyssey: Of Two Heartbeats 

"Oy! Chris."

"Yeah, Matt."

"There's some feller o'er at te house." He said walking into the barn, "He says he wants te talk to ye."

Chris turned towards Matt and leaned against his pitchfork. "What's he wanting?"

"Won't say. Just seys it's important that he talk to ye."

"Well. . . " Chris shrugged and forked another load of hay into the manger. "What's he look like?"

"No one I've ever seen before. Fancy feller, boots so shiny they look as if they'd never seen a pile a shite in their life." Matt said laughing. "Bit on the pale side too. Must be too privileged to be in the sun."

_Oh, hell! "_Well send 'im down to the barn here. He could be the guy who owns that stallion we were wanting to buy a few weeks back."

"Ah, aye! He might be. Seems the sort." Matt said scratching his chin. "Sellin horses instead of raising them. I'll, err; send 'im down to ye. Yeah?"

"Yeah. Cheers Matt."

_Easy Chris. It's just a coincidence. Nobody knows where you are. And besides he's dead and this is the last place on earth those idiots would even consider looking for you._

"Damn!" She cursed stabbing at the hay. "I like it here."

Throwing more hay into the manger she glanced out the door to see if this 'fancy feller' as Matt called him was any closer to the barn. Not seeing anyone yet, she thought back to the first day she met Matthew Connolly.

She had been fresh off the boat and didn't even know the name of the town she was in. Hoping she would be able to find some kind of work because she had very little money left her escape from Paris and boat ride to England had cost her dearly. Going back was not an option so she had to find something and fast.

She had found a copy of the local paper on the ground. On the back of it in the bottom corner there was an advertisement of a man who wanted a farm hand for a small horse holding halfway to the next town. Screwing up her courage she walked to the farm and knocked on the door.

"Can I help ye Miss?"

"I'm answering your advertisement in the paper for a farm hand." She said rather confidently but her nervousness was beginning to show.

"Well what can ye do?"

"I can cook and clean and keep a house." She answered quickly.

"I don't need anyone to clean and cook for me Miss. I already got me a wife." Matt said, "What I need is help in the barns with te horses. I'm afraid, Miss, I got no work for ye."

"Please monsieur, I'm desperate." She begged. "I'm a fast learner. Whatever you teach me I'll get right the first time around. I'll work hard. Please I'm begging you."

"Do you know how te ride at least? Proper like?"

"Oui, I do."

He sighed heavily and scratched his chin, "All right tell ye what we'll do. I'll take ye on for a month say sort of a trial like. I'll pay ye in room an board. If. And only if it works right I'll pay ye three shillings a week on top of room and board."

"I'll take it."

"I err. . . don't suppose you err. . .don't happen to have any other clothes with ye?"

"Non monsieur this is all I have."

He looked her up and down, "Well my boys have both headed off te be in de Kings Army. An you look as if you're about the same size as my youngest boy. I'm sure he wouldn't mind if ye borrow his clothes till ye can get some of yer own."

"Thank you Monsieur. You wont regret this."

"What's yer name girl?"

"Christine."

"Chris it is then. Ye. . . err. . . wouldn't mind cuttin yer hair would ye?"

Chris chuckled at the memory. That was four years ago now and she never did cut her hair. She didn't have to. She earned every ones respect fairly quickly or so it seemed for a woman. _It certainly wasn't easy. _ It was mostly thanks to Erik's' tutelage and the way he demanded perfection that she achieved anything at all. Learning how to do it right the first time instead of encuring his wrath. Even more thanks to him that she knew how to ride "the proper way" as Matt put it.

She rubbed her sleeve over her eyes. Best not to think of him right now or else she'd never be able to deal with who ever it was._ Come on Chris your 're tougher than this. Tougher than any man who has ever worked on this farm. Don't start crying now!_

" 'es in the barn ye can talk te 'er there." Matt said pointing with his thumb over his shoulder.

"Thank you." He replied with a nod. And turned to head in what he assumed was the direction of the barn. A thumb pointed over a shoulder could hardly be called accurate directions.

He looked around himself as he walked. The locals had called it a farm but what he saw now was leaps and bounds over the image that the phrase had conjured. It looked to be a very large and well-employed stable. _Very good-looking stock._ He thought as he looked over a field of mares and foals. They were obviously well kept the mares had gleaming coats and the colts were spry and lively. The outbuildings he noted were also in good repair the paint looked fresh and they were tidy, no make that, impeccably kept.

He came up to what he assumed was the main barn, another impeccably kept building, where a young man or rather boy was forking up the last of some hay.

"You there." he called, "Would you be able to tell me where I can find Christine?"

She looked up at the mention of her name and it seemed as if everything caught in her throat at once.

"Erik?" she whispered as her eyes rolled back into her head and she fainted into his waiting arms.

A/n: please review! It's that pretty little blue button at the bottom of the page.


	2. Chapter 2

_"Erik?" she whispered as her eyes rolled back into her head and she fainted into his waiting arms._

The blackness had consumed her quickly and she felt like she was falling. _He can't be here! _Her mind yelled. He was dead. She stood beside Nadir as she came to visit him that last time. She held his hand that day, the whole day; it was colder than she had ever felt it. He wasn't alive he couldn't be she had held his corpse and cried. _I helped to dig his grave. _The only thing that told her any of that was real was the pain inside her heart an indescribable pain of a heart that was being torn away from it's other half.

He was barely able to catch her before she had fell. He could have kicked himself, he had had no idea the young boy he was talking to was his Christine. Until she cried out and the cap fell from her head when he caught her. _I'm sorry to have done this distress to you ma cherie. _ He thought as he held her tenderly. She moaned and turned towards him.

"Christine?" he whispered.

She opened her eyes slowly and raised a hand up to rest on the side of his mask.

"Your alive. How?" She breathed in wonder. "Am I dead?"

He shook his head, " You are very much alive petite."

"But. . ."

"I have no explanation for it. One minute I was holding your hand taking what I was sure was my last breath. The next Nadir was dropping me into my grave. Literally"

"I couldn't do it." She cried quietly as a tear slipped down her cheek. "I tried for you."

"It was cruel of me to ask, that you do any of it all." He looked in her eyes. "Forgive me."

She sighed deeply, "Of course I do."

Their eyes met for the briefest of moments then Christine moved to get up. "I have to get this shedrow swept up."

He helped her up and she dusted herself off. She grabbed her cap from the floor shook the hay off it and with a practiced move tucked her braid inside and placed the cap on her head. Erik briefly stared in wonder, before he caught himself. One moment she was Christine and the next she was the farm hand he had called out to and completely devoid of any femininity. He watched in silence as she took up the pitchfork and expertly manoeuvred it and the hay into another manger. Then seemingly out of nowhere, she had a broom in her hand sweeping up the last of the hay into a horsebox.

"Why did you leave France?"

She shook her head and looked him in the eye. "Not here." She put the broom away. " I have to get Charlie and Eddie. I'll be right back."

She left the barn and disappeared into the dimming twilight beyond. Erik shrank into the shadows feeling oddly exposed now that she wasn't in the barn with him. He leant against the horsebox behind him where a white pony was munching on hay. Questions were whirling around in his mind. Why was she here? How did she get here? Obviously she had nothing to do with the de Chagney's any more, he'd been able to discover that much.

But he wanted to know why? Why is a woman trained to be a leading lady and toast of the opera slinging muck and tending horses? Dressed as a boy no less? Well he had to concede the last question. All though he had never worn one, and NEVER would, he assume a dress would not be the best option for this kind of work. But. . . Who on earth were this Charlie and Eddie?

"CHARLIE! Knock it off! You can walk like gentleman for Christ's sake."

Erik straightened up when he heard the epithet. He blinked. _ 'Was that Christine?'_

In answer to his question Christine walked in leading a pair of Clydesdales by their halters.

"Get in there ye great bloody oaf!" Christine swore as she put the lighter of the two into his stall. "Come on Eddie into your stall too. Good boy."

The second horse went into his stall amiably and she shut the door. She straightened her cap and turned towards Erik. She struggled to keep a straight face as she saw the shock as plain as day on half of his face.

"Christine?" He said slowly.

"The big bugger tried to walk on top of me. I don't put up with that." She scowled. "Stepped on my foot too, while he was at it."

He was speechless. Who was this. . .this? There were no words to describe this person. He was in awe.

"I'm starving. Have you eaten yet?" She said, pausing to look at him, and then she smiled. "Never mind, I already know the answer to that. Come on."

She closed a door to a room and led him out of the main barn over to a small out building.

Without a word and a shake of his head he followed her.

"Wait here I'm going to grab some eggs and a bottle of wine." She said disappearing into the darkness.

She stopped when she knew she was out of sight her heart was pounding. _This can't be real! Ce ne pa possible! _She clutched at her heart happiness burning her from the inside at the possibility. _Oh mon dieu! Sil vous plait! Let this be real! _He had certainly felt real when he held her. Should she question it? Maybe she shouldn't have let him out of her sight lest this all be but a dream and he simply disapears. Christine laughed quietly to herself at her insidiousness. _If this is one of those dreams I best hang on with both hands. I don't want to chance to losing but a second._

She opened the door to the hen house and laughed at the way she had just left Erik, utterly speechless, knowing full well that she had made him that way. Simply because she just wasn't the same Christine anymore. The Christine he knew better than she supposed he knew himself. She grew up. She had to.

And she liked the Chris that she was now. She was tough, she spoke her mind and she was respected for it. _La petite l'ingenue?_ The whole concept just felt foreign to her now._ 'I don't even think I could be her anymore.'_ She thought, _'to be her again would mean. . . leaving all of this behind and I don't want to do that.'_

She filled the pockets of her mack with eggs and left the hen house. Just before she turned and went down to the cellar she stopped and watched Erik through the space between the boards. He looked unsure of himself. She felt guilty, she knew she hadn't done it on purpose. But, even still, she didn't like it when she made him question himself. Speaking of questions. . . How is that he is alive? Well, he had answered that already. _Hadn't he ?_

It was just odd for him not to know the answer to something. Why did he come to find her? '_That is actually a stupid question. _ How did he know? '_Erik knows everything._' she thought rolling her eyes. Her heart twitched, all she knew for sure; was that he was still her Erik. Strong, brilliant, a tender frightened heart, brave, caring, thoughtful, loving. . . a dear heart. _And very alive._

_More to come! If you review I post faster...no really I do!_

_A/N: The re-animation process I am using to resurrect Erik is one I studied in university in psychology. And basically it states that under moments of extreme stress and trauma the body will basically ( in short) shut down giving the impression that the person has passed away rather peacefully and then the body will "reboot" itself purging the stress from its system. So I figured with the pain of being without Christine, his not so perfect ability to take care of himself (ie: not eating, sleeping, destructive thought process) and a sever want to actually die. All of this together would cause his body to initiate this "Reboot"._

_Thanks to Inkblottales again...more coming your way soon!_

_opera777_


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Just to answer all your questions at once. Did Christine really say that? Yes she did. Thanks to inkblottales again more chappies coming your way soon! Have a good day guys!

On with ch3!

She shook herself and took the matches down from the shelf to light the lantern to go into the cellar. Descending the steps she desperately tried not to think about that day. Like she always did when she went down those steps. Even with what she knew now, the memories forced their way back into her mind, as if the were new. Images of his death, as he held her hand and they professed their love and promised to love each other even in death. The way he used all of his strength to remove her ring.

_"You were mine first. And tonight you will be again." He had said looking so deeply into her eyes she could almost feel him inside her heart."_

_"Don't leave me." She had whispered clutching his hand._

_"Not for right now. But I am afraid. I will have to leave you soon, my dear." He said giving her hand a squeeze._

Tears began streaming from her eyes.

_Christine stop! He is alive. By some great miracle and he is waiting for you. Now pull yourself together! _

She scrubbed at her eyes with her sleeve. Best to put those thoughts away for now. You don't know where anything stands right now. It won't do you any good to go losing your head. She took two bottles of wine off the rack grabbed the lantern, then as a last minute idea, grabbed a jar of preserves off another shelf and returned to where Erik stood waiting.

"I feel like I've just raided the kitchens." She said with a laugh holding up the bottles of wine.

"Let me carry some of that or your going to break the eggs. Wherever they happen to be." taking one of the bottles and a jar from her. As she handed them over she didn't miss the sidelong glance he gave her.

"They're in my pockets. My rooms are over this way." She said motioning with the lantern.

He followed with out a word and with out a sound. She had to at one point indulge herself with a quick pause to ensure the fact that he was still behind her. She turned and paused the lamp light caught the gold of his eyes and her heart did a summersault.

"Up the stairs." She said with smile and headed up the stairs. When she got to the top of the stairs she handed the lantern to him and braced her shoulder against the door, "This bloody door always sticks in the damp weather. Which is basically all the time."

She gave mighty shove against the door and then held it open for him, "Après vous."

"Merci." He said walking past her; then turning to watch as she shouldered the door closed again.

"I could fix that for you."

"Merci, but no. I complain about it but actually I'm glad for it." She said moving past him into the kitchen area.

"Did I hear you right? Your glad for it."

She nodded, "I know it sounds crazy. Here, I'll take those." She said taking the bottles from him and setting them down on the high table that separated the kitchen from the living area." But there is a trick to that door and if you don't open it the right way it makes the most horrible sound. And you can hear it all the way across the farm. Stops any one from coming up here to mess with my things."

"When you put it like that." Erik said setting the lantern on the table. "Doesn't sound crazy at all. Rather ingenious actually, well done."

"Merci. Have a seat. " She said turning to the cupboard to get a bowl for the eggs. He took his cloak off and hung it on an empty hook by the door beside a rather well used looking bridle. He pulled out one of the tall chairs and perched himself on it and took his hat off and sat it on the chair beside him where a saddle sat looking freshly cleaned and polished. Suddenly she was nervous and her hands trembled. She looked at him through her lashes. Nothing about him had changed, really; maybe he was a little more simply dressed than when he was at the opera. And it did seem like his complexion was a little darker as if it had actually seen a day or two of sun. And when he had held her in the barn he felt more solid. A sure sign thathe must be eating somewhat better_. I can't believe I fainted so much for being tough, eh Chris?_

She placed the last egg in the bowl and he reached over and stilled her hand.

"Christine, you're handling this rather well." She looked down at his hand. She knew this hand, it was graceful, it created the most wonderful music, it could deliver death and it could be unfailingly gentle. And it was very alive. Her thumb of it's own volition reached up and hooked over his finger. She swallowed and looked up into his eyes.

He marvelled at them. The purest shade of blue he had ever seen. But just as he had noticed before they were glassy with the threat of tears. She swallowed and looked down at their hands.

"Do you have any idea how surreal this is for me?"

'"You think it's any easier for me?"

"It's too easy." she barely whispered, but he had heard it all the same. It was the truth she was avoiding.

"What is?"

"This. . . you. . .am I dreaming?" Christine whispered and looked up into his eyes searching for answers.

"If you are then we are having the same dream." he said softly returning her gaze." But I promise petite you are not dreaming."

"But. . ." She shook her head, "I don't understand. . . you... you were. . .you did."

"To the best of my knowledge, yes. I'm sorry Christine; I don't have an answer for you. I wish I did because then I would have an answer for myself."

"Tell me something." She said with a new resolve.

"Anything."

"No. Tell me something only you would know."

"Your favourite fairy tale is about the white rose and the nightingale. You used to ask me to tell it to you when you were feeling frightened or having trouble sleeping."

"Non, Meg knows that. Something else."

"Because of that fairy tale your favourite colour of rose is white, like snow. But after every performance I give you a red rose because music is the expression of the love we share."

"What else?" she urged her heart pounding as tears threatened to fall.

"On your back above your right hip there is a one inch scar. You got that cut from a knife sticking out of a drawer in the kitchen. I was the one who cleaned and stitched it for you. It was the first time you had ever drank brandy."

"And?"

"Another scar, one that matches one of mine. On your left hand." He said turning her hand over and tracing the scar on the heel of her hand with his thumb. Then turning his left hand over to reveal an identical scar. "On your eighteenth birthday we made a blood pact no more lies, no more half truths."

Christine looked up into his eyes and swallowed a tear slipped from her eyes.

"It was the first time you kissed me."

"Oh, God. Erik!" She cried the dam of tears finally breaking. And before he knew it Erik had an entire lap full of Christine. She clung to him, sobbing, as if he was going to vanish any second. Or worse yet she was going to wake up, "Oh !God! please don't leave me, I wont survive it this time."

"I'm not going anywhere mon ange." He whispered and held her close.

A/N:Hopefully before the end of the week I will have a sketch up on deviant art of Christines rooms. When you get to deviant art just search for me opera777 and it will probably maybe be there.

please review it makes my dark existence brighter!


	4. Chapter 4

AN: Okay, first off, all my (well not all there is more) art is up on deviant art and you can find me at opera777 dot deviantart dot com. Please run over there and have a look and tell me what you think. Please? I live for comments and they prove to my family and friends that there are actual people out there enjoying my art and I am not just doing this all for myself. And Second BIG thank you to inkblottales extra chappies coming soon ( I promise).

Okay I'll shut up now...

On with the chapter.

_"It was the first time you kissed me."_

_"Oh, God. Erik!" She cried the dam of tears finally breaking. And before he knew it Erik had an entire lap full of Christine. She clung to him, sobbing, as if he was going to vanish any second. Or worse yet she was going to wake up, "Oh !God! please don't leave me, I wont survive it this time."_

_"I'm not going anywhere mon ange." He whispered and held her close._

He held her close and revelled in the feel of her. Her nearness, her softness her body and how it was now different, curved and muscled where she was once willowy and lithe; but all together the same beauty she would forever be in his eyes. He praised the tears that slipped down his neck and got caught on his collar and he wasn't really sure if they were his or hers. She sniffled and he felt her body shift in his lap. Christine pulled back and looked in his eyes with the most peculiar look of determination in her eyes. She ran the back of her finger over the masked side of his face down to his chin and hooked it under the edge of his mask.

His breath caught and she looked in his eyes and caressed his chin with her thumb.

"May I?"

He nodded. "You won't believe this is real until you do."

She nodded then slowly and gently lifted the mask off his face and set it on the table. He watched her every movement. Desperately fighting down the fear he felt every time he was in this situation.

Christine turned back towards him; her eyes found his and then slowly ventured out. Nothing had changed; there was a small red mark under his eye where his mask always rubbed if he had been wearing it for a long time. She traced over it with her finger and he shakily let out the breath he had been holding. Her eyes flipped back to his. She tentatively licked her lips and he leaned into her tightening his grip around her waist. Her eyes flicked up to his, and then slid close as she,

"Oy, Chris!"

They snapped apart, "Ah, hell!" she swore.

"Oy, Chris you in there wot?" The person said again this time banging on the door.

"Yeah, yeah. "

Chris sniffed and wiped the tears from her face with her sleeve. Which was gently pushed away and replaced with a soft handkerchief. She sent him a look of thanks and climbed of his lap and headed towards the door. Erik grabbed his mask and put it back on as well as the hat he had taken off earlier which cast his face in shadow. She glanced back at him with her hand on the door. He nodded, thankful they could still speak without speaking. She wrenched the door open revealing the god-awful sound it made.

"Bloody Hell Chris! What you go an do that for?"

"What do you want Martin?"

"Mates an' I are heading round pub for pints. We wanted to know if you wanted to join us."

She smiled, "Thanks mate. Think I'm gonna stay in tonight though, got a new book I want to start."

"Wot? You got a bloke comin over later?"

"No!"

"Want one?"

"NO!" She screamed and gave him a shove. "Arsehole! Get outta here! If I was ever lookin it wouldn't be for your sort anyway."

Erik heard someone running down the steps, "What's the matter too rich for yeh?"

"No! Too bloody common." She cackled, "You lot! Keep that one leashed tonight."

"Sure thing Chris."

"Night Chris."

"Good night me darlin. I'll meet you in me dreams."

"Don't forget your feeding in the morning Martin."

"I won't, Mother!"

Erik heard the voices receding, figuring it was safe he pulled his hat off. He hesitated when he reached for the mask but he shrugged and took the mask off as well. It was just Christine and he didn't need to hide around her_. Christine. _He shook his head. Who was this, this, woman? This . . ._woman_? Self assured, sarcastic, with a mouth barely cleaner than a sailors.

He shook his head it was like dealing with Janus. One moment she was Christine, the voice and his Angel. And the other she was Chris, farm hand, strong and foul mouthed. He conceded to his point, as Nadir would no doubt point out. There were times when Erik himself was not so eloquently worded. But at least he attempted to swear in a language that Christine didn't know if she was present.

Christine closed the door without it's signature sound and began unlacing her boots, "Feels good to get these off, " she said as she pulled her last boot off tossing it in the corner. She then took her mack off and hung it on the back of the door with her hat, "Phew! I stink; I don't know how you can stand me, Erik. I've been mucking barns out all day. . .What?"

She hadn't realized that he had been staring at her from the moment she had closed the door.

"Who are you and what did you do with Christine? She was here a moment ago?"

Hiding a smile, she wiped her hand on her pants and stuck it out then with a perfect English accent said, "Chris Daae, pleasure to make your acquaintance gov'nor."

Erik stared at her dumbfounded and when she could no longer contain her giggle, he snatched her hand up and pulled her into his arms and allowed himself to smile when she hugged him back.

"Oh Erik, I'm so sorry. This has to be hard enough for you too, without me making it harder." She pulled back slightly, but didn't give up her hold on him, looking up at him and getting lost in his eyes she said, "I'm not so different. It's still me, I swear."

"Yes, you do."

"Oh. You noticed that did you?"

"Hard not to."

"What can I say?"

He looked at her.

She sighed and stepped away from him walking to the kitchen area and took two wine glasses out of the cupboard and set them down on the table. Erik resumed his earlier chair and gave her a look that clearly said I'm waiting.

"I don't have to tell you about survival or the things we have to do to do so. For me to do that would just be preaching to choir as they say. But when I came here and began working with the men I either had to become one of them or give up and leave with little more than what I came with. It all just became part and parcel; they're not exactly the aristocracy.

He chuckled, "Are you telling me you have pretended to be a man? My little delicate Christine?"

AN#2: One last little bit form me if I get a total of 10 comments and reviews (combined) I will post another chapter in the next 3 days. That is 10 combined reviews between deviant art and fanfiction and I will post a new chapter in 3 days (from today). It's shameless to go digging for comments, this I know, but I NEED validation! HUGS!


	5. Chapter 5

A/n: Here's chapter 5! Thank you to every one who reviewed and Everyone who cruised over to and commented on my art! You guys are awesome!

_He chuckled, "Are you telling me you have pretended to be a man? My little delicate Christine?"_

"No, not really. Well, in a way I suppose, but mostly it was Matt's doing in the beginning. Hence the name. The clothes were or rather are slightly more practical than a dress. The name later just became a nick name of sorts." She said passing him the corkscrew, "Would you mind doing the honours?"

"Not at all. So who is Matt?"

"Lord Matthew Connolly. The gentleman you spoke to this afternoon. Merci." She said taking the open bottle from him, filling their glasses and passing him his glass. " I think he was just trying to cover up the fact that he had just hired a woman as a farm hand. It was tough but I earned my own place, eventually. I had to grow a thicker hide and just had to learn not to back down. If you look someone sqare in the eye and don't flinch they'll back down long before you would even consider it."

"That's my girl."

"I learned that from you." Christine said looking into her glass.

"What shall we drink to?" He asked.

"The wonderful miracle that brought you back to me." She said looking up into his eyes and smiling.

"To fate then."

"To fate." she said smiling softly, clinking her glass with his and drinking.

"So you work for a Lord?"

"Hmm, I do." she said, "Odd isn't it?"

"He doesn't seem the sort." Erik said with a chuckle, "I don't understand. How did you come to be here? Despite everything cherie, you should be La Vicomtesse."

Christine walked to the stove in the corner and opened the door, crouched down and began building up the fire, trying to put her thoughts together without any luck.

Erik watched her; at first he simply assumed she was avoiding his question. Then, when she gave him a glance, he realized, that she might be at a loss for words herself. Instead he resigned him self to watching her. At one point she sat back on her haunches and watched the fledgling fire take purchase in the stove. The firelight turned her skin golden and her eyes green and he saw how much his angel had grown up. She was a woman now. There was something else there as well, she looked broken somehow.

"Christine, cherie?"

"This is going to take a lot of explaining." She said standing with a dancers grace and closed the door of the stove. She walked over to where he sat and put her hand on his shoulder, his arm of it's own volition stretched out and wrapped itself around her waist. Just like it was always meant to.

"There's a lot to tell. I'm going to change. Would you mind lighting a few more lamps?"

"Beinsure."

" Merci, the matches are on the window sill." She said giving him a small smile and turning towards her bedroom.

He nodded and stood, retrieving the matches. Beside them on the windowsill was a pair of blue tapered candles in glass holders. He set those on the table and lit them. Then he walked to the fireplace and lit the two lamps on the mantle.

"Christine?"

"Hmm?"

He turned in the direction of her voice, just as she was pulling her sweater off. He turned quickly back to the mantle. Trying to dispel the image that was now burned on the back of his eyelids. The graceful curve of her back and the cream of her . . ._stop it!_

"Would you like me to light the fireplace as well?"

"Just the candles in front of it. It's too warm to have it and the stove going at the same time. "

"Where did you learn to speak English?"

"After I left Chagney." She said coming up beside him. "I worked at an Inn and we served a lot of English customers as well as French. So I did my best to learn the language, made things considerably easier when the English patrons were making requests.

"A few of the regulars who came to know me did their best to help. Pronunciations were easy, thanks to the little tricks you taught me. Reading was tough, mostly because of the spellings, but eventually, I got it. One of the older customers used to slip me small books in the laundry. I would underline any passages I couldn't understand or had trouble pronouncing. Then when I was done my duties for the day. I would seek her out in the salon and she would teach me. In turn I would play the piano for her and sing. She said it was the best payment she had ever received. I often wondered if she knew who I was, really. She was very well travelled.

"You were second only to Carlotta for nearly a season Christine. And you have had your own gala. It wouldn't be unusual for you to have been recognized. I don't think you realize, cherie, the breadth of your stardom. Many letters, which did not come from me, were requesting you to replace la Carlotta. Or some were willing to quit their patronage of la Populaire."

"Perhaps, I didn't." She said shrugging, "But then, I had so much else on my mind back then."

"You did." He said quietly ad followed her back to the kitchen, returning to his earlier seat. She topped up their wine and took a long sip. "I didn't help matters did I?"

She looked down at the tabletop, "For all that you were unpredictable back then, you were the only constant." She sighed, "Cor, I was so young. I thought you were just being jealous, but you were right I should have sent Raoul De Chagney packing the moment I opened the dressing room door."

She turned and began busying herself with getting things from the cupboard to make diner. She set a pan on the stove to heat. At one point he was sure he saw her brush away a tear. She set a bowl on the table and a fork.

"Crepes or Omelette?" she said looking up.

"Crepes." He answered and then added quietly, "I love your crepes."

She began cracking eggs into the bowl and adding flour and milk. He could tell she was trying to avoid, looking at him.

"Christine?"

"Bear with me Erik, I'm not exactly sure where to start." She said walking to the stove with the bowl in hand and a ladle.

_A/N: I've got more pics posted at .com And one of them is a scene from this chapter! Please go have a look and comment. Even if you just leave me a happy face to let me know you were there I apreciate it all the same. :) For those of you waiting for the next chapter for Amour a Par Amour it is coming I promise I am just giving it a polish will probably have it posted after I come back from fishing. As always Thanks to Inkblottales belleange48 and Eriksrose you guys keep me going! HAPPY CANADA DAY EVERYONE! Hugs Opera777_


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: *Sheepish looking author peeks over keyboard* I'm really really really sorry! I really am! I have been so busy with real life I hadn't had a chance to post. (it has been so bad I burnt mac and cheese...I know!) So here it is an extra long chapter. As always many thank yous to belleange48, Eriksrose and inkblottales and anyone else who review or favorites this story! Thank you so much everyone you keep me going! If anyone has any spare time head over to my deviant art page and check out my art im at opera777dot deviantart dot com. hugs everyone.

"Christine?"

"Bear with me Erik, I'm not exactly sure where to start." She said walking to the stove with the bowl in hand and a ladle. She set the bowl on a wide ledge with the ladle and then picked up the lantern and a flannel. She hung the lantern on a hook and wrapped the flannel around the handle of her pan. Then ladled out some of the batter into the pan.

"Did he hurt you?" he whispered, her head snapped up and the haunted look in her eyes was all he needed for his answer.

"Not physically, no, but it hurts all the same. Sometimes, I wish he did it would make this all easier to deal with.

"When we left you that night, I was a shadow. I could barely string two thoughts together, actually I don't even remember if I even said two words to him the whole way to Chagney."

"Chagney?" He exclaimed, "You were in no state to travel to Chagney."

"He said he wanted to get away from the city. I think more, that he wanted to put distance between you and me. And I put up no argument. We reached Chagney well past dawn, he showed me to a room lit the lamp and left. No words of comfort, not even a good night. I had nothing with me, just what I was wearing."

"He just left you? In the dark, in a strange place no less, you hate to be alone in the dark."

"Erik."

"My apologies. Continue."

"I don't know, why. I don't even know how many hours later it was or even if I slept. I was numb. A maid came in with a tray- at one point and left it on the writing table, she also had a fresh nightgown and the presence of mind to inform me that she was instructed to take my dress and burn it as well as everything else I was wearing. The look on my face must have said it all."

She took a plate down from the rack and placed the crepe on it. And poured more batter into the pan.

"She patted me on the shoulder and told me not to worry she would make sure my things were washed and returned to me. I slept then I know I did. It must have been for quite some time. The next thing I knew I was being woken up by a doctor. Raoul was in the room, standing by the door, he didn't look at me the whole time. The doctor checked me for signs of fever. But of course he found none. The first blow was when the doctor informed me that he was going to examine me to make sure I was still intact and no one had forced their issue with me."

She opened the jar of preserves and placed some down the centre of the crepe and set the plate in front of him.

"NEVER!" Erik growled murderous almost feral, "I. . ."

Christine grabbed his hand and looked deep into his eyes, "I know. In my mind it's not even a matter of question. I on the other hand reacted very similarly to you. I asked Raoul if he trusted me so very little. He didn't answer and took his leave of the room. I turned to the doctor and told him if he even tried I would show him what he could do with his stethoscope, in no uncertain terms. The doctor left rather quickly after that."

"Why didn't you leave?" He asked.

She walked back to the pan and flipped the crepe onto her plate, replacing it with fresh batter. She then sat the plate down and then took the chair beside Erik and pulled it to the other side of the table and sat down.

"The door was locked. God knows what he must have told them." She said as she mechanically applied preserves to her crepe. He reached across the table and placed his hand on hers this time. He saw it in her eyes; the desolation when one you trust breaks said trust.

"My food was drugged. It was an end and all bleeding together. I couldn't tell day from night, reality was fragile at best. I used to dream of you, delusions and hallucinations by the dozens. Of how you would find me and rescue me. Or even just come and hold me and keep me safe.

"I used to pray constantly to my father, any one really, with a compassionate ear. The worst of it was, I didn't even know why. I don't know what I did wrong. No one said anything to me or even spoke to me, if I saw anyone at all. Even now, I'm scared I'll go to sleep and I'll wake up there again. And all of this will disappear. I don't want to go there again, Erik, I want to be free. I want to know I am free and not trapped within the confines of my own mind." Tears slipped down her face and she pushed her plate away, "I'm suddenly not so hungry any more."

Erik got up from his chair and walked to the pan on the stove and took out the last crepe and turned it onto his plate. He placed the spatula on the table and crouched down in front of her and took her hands in his.

"Christine, look at me. I go through the same thing, I worry each day that there is a chance that I may wake up with the gypsies in that crate again. You are the one thing that keeps me from thinking that. When I was there and I dreamed, it seemed like every woman was my mother. Even though they were kind, in the beginning, in my dreams eventually they turned mean like my mother was.

"It was almost as if my mind was using pieces of my mother to create those women; her hair, her smell, her eyes, her height or her voice. You are so different from her. You smell of roses and lavender, my mother smelled of powder and cream. Your eyes are soft when you look at me and hers were hard. Your voices are different as well, yours is light and crystal toned. Hers was heavy and bell toned. I know it sounds like I am rambling my dear, but all of these differences are what let me know this. This is what is happening now. That all of this is real, You are real and I am here.

"Think Christine. What was it that connected all of your schemes together, the one thing that proved they were not real? Something I did or didn't do that brought you back there."

She sighed, was it really that easy? "Y-your mask, you never took it off."

"Good girl, what else?"

"Your smell, you never had a smell in my dreams. Your smell is one of those things I love about you. Leather, candle smoke, the must and damp of the cellars, horses and you." she said looking at their hands not wanting to see his reaction, "There is one other thing and I only just realized it now."

"What's that cherie?"

"Your warmth. It's like you are your own heat source. My mind made it so that your hands were cold against my warm skin. But it's the other way around. Your hands are so warm they made my face feel cold."

Relief flooded through him, he had helped her fight this demon. The first, he was certain, he would be fighting for her tonight. And she came through because of him. He slipped one of his hands from hers and caressed her cheek to confirm her revelation. A small smile ghosted its way across her lips. "Hang onto that my dear. If you ever question anything, those things will remind you and bring you back to reality." He said, standing up. She pulled him back down suddenly scared to be away from him,

"What if you go away again? What if you have to leave me?" she asked quietly. "And I can't focus on you to bring me back?"

Now, Erik was almost at a loss. What could she do? What could he tell her? All the key's they had created were centred on him. What if he wasn't here? or Gods forbid, something happened to him?

"Not that I plan to leave you now that I have found you again, mon ange. But you may have a point." He sighed _what could it be?_ She needed something that she would have had no prior knowledge of, something so completely different from life in France. Then it hit him the horses, "Cherie? Have you ever foaled out a horse?"

"Not before I came here. In fact I had never seen anything. . ." She said automatically, then her eyes lit up. She threw her arms around him. "Oh Erik, your brilliant! I wouldn't have known anything about that back then. Merci. Oh, merci."

He held her as close as he dared, feeling her relief come off her in waves. He knew, better than most, what it was to haves ones own sense of sanity returned to them. But even better was the sense of reality and to know that it was all real.

"You did it again, you saved me." She whispered, he pulled back and looked at her, she smiled.

"You save me everyday." He said softly. "I'm glad I could return the favour."

"Mon dieu, how I missed you." She said looking up at him, "I used to think how different my life would be if I didn't have your voice inside my head, all the time. Now I realize that I simply can't function without it there. The utter loneliness is enough too undo me. It did."

"Then I shall simply have to endeavour that it is always there, and you never have to go without, my dear." He said unashamedly gazing at her as she looked up at him and smiled, a little. He readjusted his hold on her and pulled her tighter as his gaze travelled to her lips for the briefest of moments.

"Do you think you could manage to eat something now? I have a feeling there is much more to tell and no doubt you'll need your strength."

"I can try."

"That's all I ask, cherie." He said giving her shoulder a squeeze and retuning to his chair, "It would be a shame to see a wonderful supper such as this go to waste. And I know watching me eat isn't exactly the most appetizing thing."

"Stop it!" She said and gave him the most vitriolic look she could come up with, "You are the most welcome guest I have ever had for supper. And the one I would want here above all others. Don't you dare try that with me Erik."

"So, noted. Is that meant to say I have a standing invitation?"

She laughed and chucked the dishtowel at him. "Of course! As if you of all people needed to ask."

He chuckled, it was a rich and warm sound, and all that more wonderful because of it's rarity. "Eat." He added in that voice.

"Oui, maestro." she said taking a bite. "Satisfied."

"Yes, now eat more." He said and took a sip of wine." You know, I wasn't all that certain my sudden reappearance would be received all that well."

She looked up at him, "Here me well, when I say this. I don't care what has happened between us or what will happen. But know this! You are, never, an intrusion. You are and always will be welcome in my life."

"Merci beau coup." He said putting everything he had into those two words. "The same applies to you as well."

"Merci."

They sat in silence. Christine managed to eat a few more bites. But the hollow expression in her eyes told Erik that there was much more to this and they were only on the cusp of the damage that the boy had done to her. There was more, much more. He wasn't certain if they would uncover it all tonight.

"Was there a point when you realised what was being done?" He asked quietly.

"I did eventually although I am sad to say it was a long time coming."

"As strange as it sounds cherie, the delusions are a form of self preservation. It could have taken years for you to realise it." he said softly and matter of fact.

"It felt like it." She said taking a small sip of her wine. "It was almost as if I was being locked away until I had some form of usefulness. Almost like a doll in a box or a trophy in a case. Maybe that's all I was. He had won me away from you and that was all there was to that. I was no longer valuable to him. The thrill of the hunt was gone."

"Oh my love." He murmured, "I gave him the most precious thing I had ever had in my life. More precious than my music. More precious than anything, I had ever known."

"Why?"

"I realised that night. That I loved you so much, I would die for your happiness. I thought you would have that happiness with him. Be able to do things that a life with me would simply not allow. I had money enough to keep us happy for years and investments that would keep us comfortable. But I couldn't, so I thought, give you light. A life in the sunshine, I would always have to look over my shoulder. If people found out what I looked like we would have to move. And start over somewhere else. I had been doing that my whole life I didn't want to condemn you to it as well. I didn't realise I was hurting both of us, not just me."

"I. . .I felt like someone had carved my heart out and left me on the floor for dead. It' s why I couldn't speak for myself. It felt as if the floor had fallen out from underneath me. I wanted to scream and I had no voice. Don't ever do that to me again. You thought you were only hurting yourself, but you nearly destroyed me. We're connected Erik; if you are cut I feel your pain. If you rip your heart out, it will kill me."

"I didn't know." He said choking on his words, "I had never felt, never known, the emotions you made me feel. I thought I was unrequited and you were only acting in your nature. How could you love a creature of darkness like me?"

"Indeed, how could I not? How could I not love the man who comforted and supported me through my father's death? Who put everything he had into teaching me to sing. The man who had shown me nothing but care and kindness. The man who ensured my safety with his every waking breath. The man who sang me to sleep and fought away the darkness when I was afraid. Yes you lived in the dark, but you were my light. My safe harbour I could count on you when I could count on no one else."

"It is my turn to ask why?"

"I don't know. Maybe I was too young, naïve even. Or moreover I took you for granted. She said looking down and playing with a crumb on the table. "I always thought you would be there. I took for granted that you would just know how I felt about you. Like Pappa did. I didn't know you had to tell people those things. I should have known that you especially needed to hear it from me." She said and got up from her seat and walked over to him and wrapped her arms around him.

"I love you Erik. I love you for all of who you are. And I promise I will never stop."

"Christine." He quietly cried, and wrapped his arms around her. "I love you. You are my light. You are the reason I got out of bed and didn't languish away my existence. You gave my existence purpose. You are my raison d'être.' You made me live."

"I love you." She whispered reverently as tears slipped from her eyes. "You are so beautiful. I'm in awe of you everyday and it pains me to not be near you. I love you."

She pulled him closer still and sobbed when she could feel his heart beating as fast and as hard as hers. They clung on still to each other content in the feeling of completion that they only knew when they were together. He gently eased away from her and pulled her into his lap. He looked into her eyes and brushed away a hair. His heart fumbled a beat when she smiled at him. He gently touched a tear that had fallen down her cheek, pulled it from her face and looked at it glistening on his fingertip.

"No tears." He said his voice barely a whisper.

"Can't help it. I'm so happy."

"As am I."


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: I am really really sorry everyone! I have several reasons as to why this is late but basically it all boils down the fact that real life is a royal demanding B-CH! I have not given up on my stories just trying to find a spare moment to work on them before I drop from exhaustion. Hugs to everyone!

CH7

Christine leaned forward ever so slightly and touched her lips to his. He started and his eyes darted to hers and he saw them twinkle as she sighed. He closed the distance again and she met him with passion. He pulled her as close as their bodies would allow and returned the kiss with fervour.

He reluctantly released her lips in a desperate need for breath. He kissed her once gently and rested his forehead against hers, as they caught their breath.

"I want to go slowly with this, cherie. We have so much more to talk about between us."

She nodded understanding, "We do." she sighed, "Will it keep? I just want to be close to you right now. I...I just. . . I" she stumbled as more tears slipped down her cheeks and she gripped at his jacket.

"Shhh." He crooned pulling her close again. "Moi aussi cherie, moi aussi."

"She rested her head against her shoulder and he praised the gods. He was holding his angel, not Raoul de Chagney's. He Erik, the devils child, was holding his angel and his angel loved him. He breathed in the scent of her hair, rose water and the new scent of horses and fresh air, as if she had never spent a day inside. She was real.

There was just one problem.

His leg had fallen asleep. But he was loath to disturb her. And his leg was killing him.

Erik shifted his weight in the chair in an attempt to alleviate the pain in his leg, but to no avail. He attempted to shift again and Christine lifted her head from his shoulder.

"Erik what's wrong?" She asked quietly her voice rough from crying.

"Nothing cherie. I was just changing my hold that's all," he said not wanting her to leave his lap.

"I should probably get up." Christine said tucking her head back into his shoulder. "I am no longer un petite rat."

"I hadn't noticed." Erik's said shifting once more sighing when his leg became a rush of pins and needles.

"Yes you have that is why you are shifting about aren't you?"

He heaved a laboured sigh, "Perhaps."

"Well, Perhaps we shall retire to the salon." Christine said moving to get off his lap and he tightened his arms around her keeping her in place. "Don't worry ange I am not going far."

"Promise."

"I swear." Christine whispered looking in his eyes, kissed him softly and only when his arms relaxed she stood.

"Shall we clear away the supper things?" Erik asked as he tried to compose himself and buy some time so that he could stand.

She shook her head. "I'll get it in the morning. Don't worry about it. Grab your glass and I'll bring the wine."

They settled themselves down on the chesterfield across from the candlelit fireplace. Christine topped up thier glasses and then set the bottle on the floor beside the couch. Sitting so close to one another they were at peace. Many things still needed to be said of course there was still so much between the two of them for there not to be. But for right now the simple fact that they were so near to each other was a balm on thier battered hearts and the rest of it all could really wait until tomorrow.

Eriks' thoughts were on such a simular path that their thought were virtually identical as much as he would like to have the answers to the questions in his mind of what had happened to Christine since that final night. He knew it would keep and having his angel here next to him was more than he could ask for. She shifted next to him and timidly laid her head on his shoulder and he sighed. It really could all wait until tomorrow it had been so long since he had been near her. And knowing that she was near and loving him was more important than the answers to the questions weighing on his mind.

They sat in a companianable silence for quite some time. Christine relished in the feel of his shoulder beneath her cheek, warm and real. And most importantly here. She reached out and grabbed the bottle of wine off the floor and topped their glasses up. Once she had set the bottle of wine on the floor again she took up her possession of his shoulder once again.

"How's your foot?" He asked quietly his voice rimbling beneath her ear.

"Hmm?" she asked contentedly.

"Your foot, the one that got stepped on earlier."

"Oh it's fine. A little sore I'll admit, but I've been stepped on so many times in the last few years. I usually wind up forgetting about it."

"Never thought I would see you handling horses."

"Well, that makes two of us." She said sipping her wine. "I like it here, though."

"Should I even ask?"

She snorted, "Back to being under Carlotta's thumb? Pft! Not for all the gold in Solomon's mines."

"You wouldn't have to be."

"No."

"You. . ."

"I meant no, Erik. I don't want to go back there. The only thing I miss is you, Madame Giry and Meg."

"What about the music?"

"I never left the music." Christine said placing her hand over her heart, "It's right here. Tucked in very safely between you and my father."

"So that's the end of it then."

"I never said I wouldn't sing again." She said giving him a dark look. "I just don't want to go back Paris. I like it here Erik."

"I can see that." He said softly. "It's just that, we worked so hard Christine. I just want to see you shine and enjoy what we worked so hard to perfect."

"I do enjoy it Erik because I got something out of it that no one else in this world will ever have and no one can ever take away from me." She said putting her hand on his face and turning it toward her. "Something far more important that a cheering audience."

He huffed and gave her a perplexed look "And that is?"

She smiled and leaned forward bringing her face with inches of his, "You."

"Why?"

"You love me." She said with a smile. "And you saw me when I was nothing, _I_ thought, I was nothing. Just another homeless orphan to be pittied and put to work. And you brought back to me that which had been taken away from me."

"Music."

"And you gave me what I needed." She whispered pausing to watch his face.

"And that was?"

"An angel."

"That was a lie."

"No it wasn't, you were-are my angel."

"It was a lie Christine. I made it up so that I could selfishly get closer to you."

"Perhaps. But would you have ever considered the idea had you not seen me in the chapel? Would you have even seen me? Why were you even there that night? Your haunts rarely included the chapel unless I was there and that was only after you became my angel."

"It was your voice." He said quietly his eyes glazing over with the memories from that night. "The pain, I could feel it, it called to me. Another who knew pain like I had felt. It was only after I saw you that I even thought of teaching you."

"And you became what I needed. And I became what you needed. Not all angels have wings Erik some have a mask and a soul needing love just like everyone else. You were a heaven sent mortal angel."

Erik sent her a look of disbelief still thinking his motives were selfish but at the back of his mind there was a small tiny spark barely an ember asking _What if she is right?_

"Please believe me ange." Christine said pleading, "I have spent a lot of time thinking about this. You are my special angel and despite what you think. I know you were heaven sent."

A/n#2: If you have some free time and would like to indulge in some phantomy goodness head over to deviant art and search me opera777 You wont be sorry! Very much dream inducing spleandor! or you can use the link on my profile page.


	8. Chapter 8

_"Please believe me ange." Christine said pleading, "I have spent a lot of time thinking about this. You are my special angel and despite what you think. I know you were heaven sent."_

"I'll let you think what you want Christine." He said with a sigh of resignation. "But I will deny that heaven or God for that matter had anything to with me being in your life."

Christine gave him an odd smile and shook her head, as they lapsed into another comfortable silence.

What time is it?" Christine asked with a yawn.

Erik pulled out his watch, "It's half past 10. I should probably take my leave. You should sleep it's been a long day."

"Are you staying at the inn? Or did you rent rooms at Mrs. Macready's."

"At the Inn. I wasn't sure how long I was going to be here. It was a very vague lead, I was going on hunch more than anything."

She nodded, "And you found me." She sighed and sat up, "Well, you wont be going back to the Inn tonight."

"I wont?" He said giving her a look.

"No, my dear phantom, you wont. Pauline locks the doors of the inn at 9:30pm sharp. And she doesn't open them until 7:00 the next morning. So I believe you are in a bit if a fix as they say."

He chuckled, "What do you suggest?"

"It would be no problem. Stay here."

"No." He said firmly, " I wont generate gossip. Christine, I wont damage your reputation."

"No one will even notice. You can head back to the inn in the morning get cleaned up and then come back as if nothing was amiss. And I wont take no for an answer." Christine said walking to the chest at the end of her bed and taking out another blanket. "Besides, do you have a better option? A safer one?"

"Not at this moment, no." He conceded. "I'll just sleep here on the couch. I guess?"

"You can but I wouldn't suggest it, that is. Not if you want to be walking in the morning. Christine said walking to her wardrobe and took out a pale blue pair of pyjamas. "Trust me that couch is horribly unforgiving."

"Shall I sleep on the floor then? Is that what I am fit for." He said impatiently his frustration growing.

"Sleep on the floor?! Not in my house you wont. You are worth a hell of a lot more than that. I simply wont hear of such an asinine suggestion."

"Asinine is it? Then what is left for me then Christine?"

"Sleep on the bed with me." She said, sounding perfectly serious. _Wait did I just say that?_

"I will do no such thing! Christine this is beyond question, it's indecent. It's not even proper to consider such a thing." Erik argued. _But if you're willing to insist. I am only a man after all. Despite appearances._

"I know I know. It is improper." She said putting her hands up." But the bed is big enough to be shared. You sleep on one side of the blanket and I'll sleep on the other. Totally proper we won't even touch. It's not like we haven't slept beside each other before."

"But a bed wasn't exactly involved was it."

"I slept beside you inside your cloak in my shift, how is that any different from now?"

"It was a matter of survival!"

"Oh come on! It's not improper if we don't make it improper. A person is governed by their actions not by their situation."

"You're using my own words against me Christine."

"Rather compelling argument, though, don't you think?" She handed him the pyjamas, " Concede?"

He sighed and nodded, "Concede."

"Those pyjamas should fit. Martins mother sent them for him but they were too small so he gave them to me. And I haven't had a chance to shorten them yet." she said with a wry grin.

"Oh, I see. Where shall I . . ."

"Washroom is on the other side of the kitchen, you can change in there." She said with a smile. "There's a robe on the back of the door if it will make you more comfortable."

He sighed and shook his head walking in the direction of the wash room, "Some frilly pink concoction no doubt."

"No." She said laughing as she turned down the bed, "It's black."

He took one of the now burned down candles from the kitchen and walked into the washroom, closed the door and set the pyjamas on a chair beside the door. _Did I just agree to sleep in the same bed as Christine? My Christine?_ His heart trembled at the thought. There had been that one night coming back from Perros, _of course she had to bring that up,_ they had gotten caught in the rain and had bunked down for the night inside a barn. She was soaked to the skin. So they had stripped down, Erik to his shirt sleeves and Christine to her shift, so their things could dry out and they could stay warm. In doing so Erik had to convince her to share his cloak, in order to conserve heat. Using the whole argument about actions and impropriety. _Compelling argument indeed. I think it's the first time I have ever had my words used against me. _

_Leave it to Christine._

He shook his head as he put the pyjamas on. She was in the next room, safe. That was the best part of all. All of his searching for the last year and a half and here he was in England with his Christine and she was safe. And if it was possible had become an even more desirable woman, this strong, intelligent beautiful woman. _Best not think about that right now or I could wind up getting myself into trouble. He_ thought sardonically. He took the rich black terry robe off the back of the door and put it on.

He came out of the washroom and found the loft in total darkness save the candle he was carrying and one on the table beside the bed. His side of the bed was turned down. And Christine was a sight to behold. Sound asleep her hair undone and splayed across the pillow in shimmering golden waves. He'd forgotten the strength of the urge to touch it and run it through his fingers. A sigh caught in his throat, and he fell into one of his favourite activities.

"If your planning on watching me sleep, I suggest you get a chair I'm afraid I am going to be at this for a while." She said watching him through her lashes, trying to stop from smiling.

"It appears that I have been caught." He said smiling as she opened her eyes and smiled as well.

"Not for the first time either." she said and he blew out the candle he had been holding and set it on the table beside the bed. "That was you in my bedroom on the chair and not just my imagination."

"Oui." Erik replied sitting on the edge of the bed staring at the wall, "I swear to you it was never anything inappropriate and only when you were sleeping."

"That I would never question. You are the most honourable of men; I always knew I was safe with you."

"Merci mon cherie."

"I ask you though." she said with an impish grin, "Wouldn't I get boring after a while?"

"Are you bored with watching the sunset yet?"

"Touché." Christine said and stretched across the bed and put her hand on his shoulder and then kissed his scarred cheek as he turned to look at her. His heart leapt into action and threatened to beat out of control.

"What was that for?" He whispered.

Christine burrowed back under the covers and laid her head again on her pillow, "That was for comparing me to a sunset."

With a virtually imperceptible shake of his head he blew out the last candle, took the robe off, and climbed into his side of the bed and pulled the covers over himself. He turned on his side to face Christine.

"Bon nuit ange. Merci for being real. Merci for saving me." She whispered.

"Anything for you. Ange, I'll always be here just call me."

"Well, don't go too far I hate bloody well, yelling my head off." She said and fell asleep.

He watched her until he himself succumbed to sleep.

A/N: Just a short one to satiate the masses LOL! thank you everyone for reading ! I am putting polish to the next chapter as we speak (unless the drier buzzes first) If this was not enough for you...you could please maybe go and check out my art! I'm at opera777dot deviantart dot com ( just change out the dots for real dots or you can use the link on my profile page!) L8TR!


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: I have no excuses. . . actually they're more like reasons. I am just really really sorry everyone!

_He watched her until he himself succumbed to sleep. _

Somewhere in the middle of the night, despite their blanket arrangement, Christine had rolled over into Erik's arms and there she lay lovingly cradled. The first few rays of sunshine worked their way into her room and she buried her head into Erik's chest. She attempted to fight her way back to sleep, but instead found herself relishing in the treat of having him so close to her. She burrowed deeper and his arms held her fast and safe.

Erik inched his face closer into her hair. 'Please please please let me never wake from this dream. I promise to never ask for anything ever again.' She felt so real in his arms her warmth and her breath as it ghosted his chest. His heart constricted so full for the woman he dreamed about. She stirred in his arms.

The fragrance of lavender, roses and horses flooded his senses.

It was real.

All of it.

He had really found Christine, he wasn't dreaming and she was laying in his arms.

"Are you awake?"

She gave a very un lady like groan and burrowed her head deeper into his chest, pulling the blankets with her.

"Christine?"

A soft purr came this time from the blankets and Erik couldn't help himself but laugh.

"Give me one good reason."

He wanted to say me and nearly did, but instead he said, "It's daylight."

The blankets parted and eye peeked out, "Shite!"

"Quois?"

"Shite! Merde! Oh no! I've over slept! Oh mon dieu! C'est ne pa possible!" She said throwing back the covers and leaping out of bed grabbing her jacket and hat and stuffing her feet in her boots. "Be right back!" She called as she slammed the door and thundered down the stairs.

Erik shook his head chuckling to himself and lay back against the pillows watching the sun filter through the branches outside the window. Then he heard the laughter through the window that Christine must have opened sometime during the night.

"I don't believe it."

"Pay up Will Thomas I told you she'd forget."

"Bloody hell Chris you cost me ha'f a crown!"

"Awe don't you listen to them Chris we know ye just love yer job. Now go enjoy the sunshine and the rest of your day off." Martin said trying to sound sympathetic through his chuckles.

Slow steps trudged their way up the stairs, she opened the door and kicked her boots off and threw her jacket and hat on top of them. She heaved a sigh and trudged to the bed climbed into it and pulled the blankets back over her head.

"I can't believe I did that." She groaned into her pillow from under the blankets.

"Is this a common occurrence?" he asked trying to keep the smirk out of his voice.

"Twice every month on my day off. Every time, I think I have over slept and go running into the barn to feed in my pyjamas and boots." she said pulling the blankets down so she could peek over them.

Erik valiantly fought not to laugh at the image of Christine running with just pyjamas and boots running into the barn.

"Oh, go ahead and laugh." She scowled, "It is a little funny."

Erik allowed himself a chuckle and boldly pulled her close to him. He pulled the blankets down so he could look into her face and she scowled at him.

"I laugh only at the situation. I would never laugh at you cherie."

"Oui, je sais." She said with slight nod of her head. "What would you like to do? I could make breakfast."

"It's early yet. Why don't you just rest and enjoy?" He said adjusting his hold on her gently. "Even the most lavish work minded of men have not yet quit their bed."

She giggled, "True."

"Hmm?"

"Oh easily not before noon." She said laughing. "Isn't that why brunch was invented for the aristocracy?"

"And beautiful Sopranos."

"Oh really? Would you happen to know where to find one of those?"

"I May have an idea or two." He said with a dark chuckle. _Do I dare kiss her again?_ He thought unsure of himself. He shook the thought away, "That's a beautiful view."

"It is. That's the field we put the mares in; I love watching the babies play. They should be letting them out soon."

Sure enough just as she had spoke the babies ran into the pasture and their mothers ambled along behind them. Christine smiled as she watched one of the fillies' poke her nose at the dew covered grass and then ran away as if it had bit her. Only to come charging back a moment later to do it all over again.

"That little chestnut is tenacious isn't she?" He asked with a quiet chuckle.

"She is that is why I called her Pheonix."

"Huma." He said quietly.

"Hmm?"

"In Persia the phoenix is referred to as Huma the king bird of paradise. It was why the shah wore feathers in his turban. It was to say that he had been touched by the Huma which guaranteed his rule over the land."

"Did the Huma ever reside in Allah's garden?" She asked thinking of her favourite fairy tale.

"I don't think so he was considered above it. One legend referred to the Huma as mighty and auspicious bird capable of thoughts and premonitions of kings and only a king could hold those thoughts for a moment in time. Hence the value of the bird."

"Threy almost make it sound as if a king was only allowed to have great thoughts." Christine said with a sniff.

"He was he could afford them." Erik said resting his cheek against her hair. "The peasants of Persia were not well off they had to work just to make enough to stay alive and pay the shah's taxes. The shah was considered epitomal with his lavish fabrics, fat belly, and his seemingly endless knowledge. Hence the high thoughts descended from the Huma. Many of the peasants could not read so for someone in front of them to open a book and read from it gave almost the image of sorcery and magic. A wonder of things they could not understand."

"I can see where they could so easily be deceived."

"They were." Erik said quietly wondering if Christine was alluding to the days when he was her angel. "I always liked the way they described the Huma. It was said to be both male and female each side having one leg, one wing and only one body. But it never truly came alive until the two halves were fused together for eternity. Love and passion being the source of it's colour and fire."

"Hmm that's a beautiful." Said absentmindedly caressing his hand. "But I think I prefer nightingales all the same. All that plumage and colour can get tiresome. A beautiful song that is sung with love is far more valuable."

"I'm happy you think that way."

"Erik?"

He cleared his voice, "Long ago just as time was dawning. When Allah ruled the land, and love was a sacred gift granted to those whom Allah found fit as a match. To receive this sacred love was a great gift and an honour. And there was a nightingale, a small plain brown bird with no fancy markings or colours. Truly an ugly bird; except for his one true beauty and that was his song..."

He glanced down as he felt her relax in his arms. He brushed her forehead with his lips and held her while she slept.

A little over an hour later Erik reluctantly laid Christine down on the pillow and he slipped into the washroom to get dressed. Once he was dressed he slipped out the door.

A/N: And I end it with a cliffy . . . sorry again more coming.

You know? if I update this one it means I have updated my other one. So what do you think have Erik and Christine crossed the line finally? or will they give up and return to thier respective lives? go check out Amour A Par Amour on my authors page to find out. :) please review they really are like marshmallows I can never get enough!


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